


Echoes of Mine

by bazinga01



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazinga01/pseuds/bazinga01
Summary: AU freshman year. Quinn and Santana struggle with a relationship that they refuse to deal with and are terrified to label.
Relationships: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez
Kudos: 20





	Echoes of Mine

“Useless! Absolutely pathetic! Get off my track, Lopez! I can’t stand the sight of you anymore today,” Sue berates harshly, shouting into her megaphone from her spot at the front of the bleachers.

Santana falls to her knees on the track, sucking in shallow breaths and trying to force oxygen to her lungs. She feels like she’s going to pass out. Her pulse thuds around in her head, vision blurring slightly as sweat drips from her pores.

She’s reached her limit. She’s been functioning on only three hours of sleep because she had a huge biology exam today that she stayed up until all hours of the night studying for.

Of course today had to be the day that Coach made them do sprints for an hour.

Her stomach churns and her muscles quiver as they’re finally given reprieve. She forces herself to stand on shaky legs, shuffling off the track as the next round of girls begin their turn at the whistle.

The Cheerios were split into three groups, and each group would run their 100 meters and then get a brief break while the other two groups ran before they had to start again.

She reaches for her water bottle at the side of the track, afraid to drink any until she gets away from the team. Coach wants her gone for the day, and she isn’t about to argue.

It sucks, knowing how easily she could get kicked from the team at a moment’s notice. She knows that if she is at anything less than one hundred percent tomorrow, Coach will toss her from the team in an instant.

She’s lucky she even has a spot on the team as a freshman. There were only four of them that managed to make it, and Coach has no qualms with replacing them if they aren’t up to par.

The second round of girls reaches the finish line, and Santana immediately seeks the eyes of one girl in particular. Steely hazel eyes meet hers, seemingly devoid of sympathy that Coach just humiliated her in front of the squad. The only thing that hints at her actual emotions is the brief furrow of her eyebrows when she sees the onset of tears stinging at Santana’s eyes.

But then the blonde looks away and bends down to briefly stretch her burning calf muscles, turning away from Santana. She doesn’t expect anything else from her freshman teammate.

Quinn knows there is no place for sympathy here.

** ** XXxxXX ** **

As soon as she finishes eating and showering, she goes upstairs to her room and collapses into her mattress. Her parents are out of town once again, so she knows she’s on her own.

Sleep overtakes her before she can even muster up the energy to get under the blankets.

** ** XXxxXX ** **

There’s the ghost of a touch, lingering on the border between consciousness and sleep, and she shifts against her pillow. It takes several seconds for her to truly identify the feeling of feather-light fingertips tracing through her hair.

“You came,” she murmurs sleepily into her pillow, trying to keep the surprised happiness from her voice.

Instead of a verbal response, there’s a nudge against her shoulder, shifting her onto her back as lean legs move to straddle her waist. She blinks open her eyes slowly and is met with striking hazel, blonde hair falling in a curtain around her face as the girl leans down to press their bodies together.

“Hi,” Santana whispers, almost shyly, when their foreheads touch. She lifts her hands to rest on sweatpants covered thighs, feelings the girl’s knees squeeze against her hips in response.

“Are you too tired to kiss me?” she finally speaks aloud, questioning her in a challenging tone. Santana shakes her forehead and holds back a smile. “Good,” the girl husks, leaning down more fully as Santana shifts her hands to her lower back and pulls her closer.

Quinn doesn’t say anything further before she presses her lips against the girl beneath her, mouths meeting hotly. Santana welcomes the kiss without question, moaning quietly when Quinn nips at her lower lip a moment later. Soft toned curves press into her body and she glides her fingertips against the sides of Quinn’s ribcage while her hips rest snugly between Santana’s bent legs. The weight of the gorgeous girl on top of her is intoxicating, and the smooth glide of a tongue against her lip makes her clench the thin fabric of the girl’s shirt in her hands.

Quinn chuckles into the kiss, humming in approval when Santana’s lips part and exhale a shaky breath.

“Why…Why are you here?” Santana pants when Quinn’s lips begin a path down her neck, nipping just enough to make Santana’s hips cant up wantonly.

“What do you mean?” Quinn replies defensively, pulling away to look into her eyes. “Are you telling me you’re not enjoying this?” she adds, smirking to hide her insecurity.

Santana rolls her eyes and grips her a bit tighter.

“_No_…It’s just, been a couple weeks, Q,” she admits quietly, closing her eyes to avoid seeing her reaction. “I thought you…”

“Thought what?” Quinn bites when she doesn’t continue, leaning back a little but keeping Santana’s waist locked beneath her.

“That you decided to end this,” she answers, opening her eyes so that Quinn can’t ignore her.

“This?” the other girl challenges, daring her to put a name to it, whatever _this_ is that’s been going on between them for the past three months.

“Yeah, _this_,” Santana emphasizes, squeezing the blonde’s hips. “Got yourself a boy toy now. Figured you’d be done experimenting or whatever the fuck you’re telling yourself this is.”

She feels the tension seep into Quinn’s muscles, watches how her posture goes rigid.

“And what about you, San? Are you just _experimenting_?” Quinn mocks, pushing the question over to Santana in attempt to stifle the rising panic in her chest.

The only reason this has worked is because they don’t talk about it. If you don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist. It’s okay if she randomly shows up at Santana’s house, kissing her into oblivion, because those moments don’t exist after they happen. They’re stored away, held protectively in memory and never mentioned aloud.

Santana stares back, gaze hardening while she pushes against Quinn’s legs.

“Get off of me,” she orders, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable beneath Quinn like this.

A flash of hurt flickers across Quinn’s face before she shifts and allows Santana to sit up. Santana scrambles against the sheets, leaving the comfort of her bed and standing to pace the room.

“I slept with Puck last weekend, after the party,” she says once she’s facing away, and hears Quinn’s sharp intake of breath.

“Why are you telling me this?” Quinn whispers after a moment. Santana turns back and sees Quinn fighting to conceal every real emotion surging inside of her.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” She replies, ignoring Quinn’s question and stepping closer to her. “You can’t stand the thought of me losing my V-Card. You hate that someone else has kissed me, touched me. Just fucking _admit it_, Quinn!”

“_Why_?” Quinn yells back. “What do you want, Santana? Do you want me to say that I’m totally fine with someone else having their hands all over you?”

“I want you to _care_!” she exclaims, squeezing her eyes shut when she realizes what she just admitted. “You just show up and make me feel, god, _everything_, you make me feel everything! And then it doesn’t exist. It’s like none of it exists after.”

Quinn says nothing, just stares at her with wide panicked eyes while Santana fights back tears. They look at each other for several seconds in suffocating silence, until Santana leans forward. She dips her head down to meet Quinn where she is sitting on the bed, stopping when their lips are mere inches apart.

“Admit you want to close this gap right now,” Santana murmurs desperately, and Quinn leans in just a bit until their noses are touching.

She expects Quinn to eliminate the distance, to bring their lips together and say everything with actions that she refuses to say with words. Instead, she feels a palm rest against her cheek with startling gentleness.

“I was so worried about you at practice today,” she whispers, closing her eyes to block out the frayed hope in Santana’s gaze. “I care, Santana.”

She knows Quinn isn’t just talking about Cheerios practice when she says those two words. Quinn _cares_, and it’s terrifying how much that simple admission makes hope bloom in her chest.

Hope will only lead to hurt. But Quinn’s lips are capturing hers again, strong arms pulling her down to the mattress, and it’s impossible not to give in.

So she does.


End file.
